“Sort of?”
“Yeah, sort of. My brothers taught me some basics.”
“Good.” He towers over me. “You didn’t evenseethose guys, Myka. I did. And they know you’re there. They know your car. You think they’re just sitting there, hangin’ out, smokin’ a blunt in that spot just for fun? Outside of a fuckin’ vacuum store?”
“Maybe they were just resting from all the bike riding.”
He snorts. “Cute. But no. They were casing you.”
“How do you know?”
“You don’t wanna know how I know, princess.” His voice is dark, scraping, and harsh.
“Maybe I do.” I stare back at him, trying not to shiver at the brutality in his face, his eyes.
“Yeah?” His lip curls. “’Cause Iwasthem, once upon a time.”
“You cased women to rape them?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. Never wanted no part of that shit. But I ran with guys who did.” He glares down at me. “Not sayin’ I didn’t do bad shit. I did. Just not that. But point is, I know exactly what they’re doing.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” He steps back, out of my space.
As scary as he is, I like him in my space. I feel like maybe I need to get my head checked for this, but…I think I like him. I’m not sure why, but I do.
“Gotta get back.”
I feel my hand move, on its own. It rests on his chest. “Thank you, Rev.”
His attention is on my hand, like he can’t quite believe I’m voluntarily touching him. “Mmm,” he grunts.
He pulls back out of my touch, pivots on a heel and makes for the door.
“Rev?” My voice is quiet, but it stops him as he’s halfway out.
“Mmm?” Another in his catalog of grunts.
“What if I wanted to see you again?”
He has his shades back on. “You don’t.”
“Weird,” I murmur. “Kinda feels like I do.”
“Unfeel it.” His huge body fills the doorway, nearly blocking the stream of light. “Don’t want any part of me.”
“Maybe I should decide that for myself.”
“Deciding for you.” He leaves the door hanging halfway open and comes back to me. Stares down at me, his voice low, like the rumble of bass from a powerful subwoofer. “Forget goin’ to Sin. Forget Hel.” His jaw works, grinds. “Forget Oscar. Forget everything. Most of all, forget me.” I feel his voice in my belly—as well as a location significantly lower and more intimate.
I shake my head. “Not a chance of that happening.”
He stares at me for a long moment, from way too close, his gaze inscrutable behind his mirrored wraparounds. “Goodbye, Myka Donovan.”
He’s gone, well before I find the breath to speak. “Bye, Rev,” I say to the empty air where he’d been.
The only response is the growl of the engine as he drives away.
